


Sunday Morning

by JustCharlieBruh



Series: Continue? [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Angst, Disassociation, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Polyamory, Slight Comfort, i'm so very sorry, mentions of Kudou Shinichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustCharlieBruh/pseuds/JustCharlieBruh
Summary: It's April first, despite Kaito's prayers.





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Something to update for the sake of updating. This is something that I never thought about publishing or continuing, but we'll see.

It’s April first, Sunday glares up at Kid from his phone. He slumps against the table, trying to push the clock back somehow. _One missed call_ mocks him. He grips the plastic tight enough for it to creak threateningly.

 

 _“Oi, oi!”_ Echoes up from a memory, sounding fond and ricocheting inside his skull. _Mocking_ him. “ _Be careful, I just got you that, didn’t I?”_

 

Kid nods, mechanical and devoid of life; he doesn’t realize there’s no one else here but him. It doesn’t stop him from putting the ringer at full volume before shambling over to a coffee maker he had installed recently. The world is hazy, as if he’s been disconnected. Like it’s not his body doing what he’s doing. Like he’s just watching some poor sap make two cups of black coffee and down one almost immediately. The slight sting of his throat doesn’t even make him cough anymore. Only makes him hiss as he grabs three other empty ones. Kid leaves the full one near a photo he doesn’t dare look at. Instead, his body maneuvers through twisting walkways and up a staircase into the hallway of the Kudo Manor. He checks his phone.

 

 _08:45._ Three more hours until the...gathering. _One missed call_ blinks and his throat tightens, it’s hard to breathe. Static rushes into his ears as he staggers against the wall. He blinks as it fades out. _09:10_ . Oh, okay. The cups are missing and his ears pick up the kitchen sink with its familiar squeak being shut off. Padded footsteps walk his way, quick, light. The weight of someone who only knows how to _hide_. He focuses on a spot on the floor as static returns slightly. Kid glimpses a black pencil skirt and a white button up, the breath he takes is shaky. Shiho knocks shoulders with him.

 

“Kaito-kun.” Don’t call him that. It isn’t him. Not anymore. He’s Kid, _just_ Kid.

 

“I loved him too, Kaito-kun.” He can feel a muscle in his jaw clench. Because he’s not the only one hurting, the only one mourning and yet, it feels like he’s the only one drowning. (It should’ve been him that night.) Shiho touches his arm with a gentleness she only showed him as he nearly died. Maybe he _is_ dying. Kid only nods, not meeting her eyes as he walks past. His body moves on autopilot. Up the stairs, down the hall, to the left. Their room. Second drawer, the black shirt. Kid makes sure it’s tucked in neatly. A tie as blue as a sapphire sits innocently on top of the dresser next to a handwritten note.

 

_You see, but you do not observe._

 

The script is familiar, almost scratchy, except not. _He_ took _his_ time writing this out. Kid can almost imagine the small smile as a flash of pink sticks out in concentration. A Scandal in Bohemia, one of _his_ favorites. Kid doesn’t have the heart to crumple the note. He pockets it, keeps it close to his heart as he slips the tie around his neck. (Tighter than usual. Reminds him to breathe.)

 

Careful steps bounce off the walls, heavy to let him know she’s coming up. She sighs as she crosses the room in a flash, or at least he thinks she does. It’s hard to tell time anymore. She loosens the tie, flips the collar over it to keep it in place. One hand goes over his heart as she takes the his in the other to bring over her jugular. She whispers, “Our hearts still beat the same.”

 

It’s unfair, but he wishes they didn’t. She wasn’t the one who got the call. A flick of his wrist. _09:15._

 

_One missed call - Kudou Shinichi._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it? Or a Kudos, that's pretty good too.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Strength and Weakness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879837) by [EverThePhantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverThePhantom/pseuds/EverThePhantom)




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